


Oh to Be in Love (and Never Get Out Again)

by spheeris1



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Some angst, some love, some understanding of self
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-02
Updated: 2012-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-11 06:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spheeris1/pseuds/spheeris1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-'A New Hope'. </p><p>Helena comes home. Finally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh to Be in Love (and Never Get Out Again)

/ /

Helena has given up on the idea of a ‘perfect’ world.

The sound and the shape of perfection used to be so ingrained within her mind; millions of tides turning with mechanical precision – the gears of the future were always in motion. But whether they were a product of her imagination – pen to paper, worlds made of men and mystery – or lining the walls of Warehouse 12, these images that danced inside her brain were probably always too good to be ever be true.

And reality, always years ahead and still so many steps behind, made sure to school Helena on how the world truly functions.

Oh, the world… It’ll break you if you let it.

But somewhere between the decision to not kill Myka Bering with a firearm and watching Walter Sykes perish on the Warehouse floor, Helena learned to let go of the future.

Or, rather, the future has she had always wanted it to be.

After all, daydreams are lovely but they cannot take the place of actually living one’s life.

And Helena has been as the living dead for long enough.

/

She’s not too surprised to find Myka here, standing silently in a room that used to belong to a woman they both used to know.

That Helena, the one who was still coated in bronze and was still drowning in pain, used to sleep here and bathe here and exchange masks with the practiced ease of a performer. That Helena was walking a tight-rope, with two types of destruction on either side of that long walk and a vast nothingness underneath.

Of course, there was always a net below. But that Helena didn’t want to acknowledge any other avenue.

Right now, though, Helena turns tired eyes towards Myka’s face and finds such safety lying in wait there.

And so jumping from these terrifying heights comes easily tonight; taking that first step from her precarious perch isn’t fraught with weak indecisions or cold dedication.

Helena just falls and, in Myka’s arms, she finds a salvation so long denied.

/

Helena hasn’t given up on the idea of love, though.

Surely, it has altered over the years, morphing from those over-eager ambitions of glory and fame and danger to something more tangible… yet, nevertheless, even harder to find…

She fell in love with words first and placed her lips to phrases, stole serious clenches with paragraphs at midnight. And so literature is her longest affair, never to wax and never to wane with the passing of the endless hours.

People, no matter how interesting, always paled by the side of a good book or a grand story idea.

And so lovers would come and go, sliding from seconds of heated breath to a door at their backs with the greatest of ease. Helena didn’t give them a single thought once they were away from her deft hands, forgotten like the last bite of breakfast as one is dashing for the front door.

Wanted but not needed, that used to be Helena’s idea of love.

She had a world to best and to conquer. She had men to charm and women to impress. She had such big dreams and plans to bring those dreams to fruition…

Perhaps, then, the one she loved most in those days was herself.

But Christina transformed all things in Helena’s life and so all of that self-centered affection washed over this child, all of that adoration that Helena had directed onto herself was suddenly pooling at this little girl’s feet.

And not even the most wondrous of passages written could compare to Christina’s smile or Christina’s laughter.

Yes, love could be so beautiful… but it could also be so unbearably agonizing as well. And, for a time, Helena didn’t think her heart could be mended after Christina’s death. For a time, Helena felt every twist of the proverbial knife – deep in her soul came the slow turns of the sharp edges of loss and what seeped out of her skin was not her blood but her spirit, her drive, and her reasons for being alive.

That should have been the end of her story, the day that Christina left the world blank and black. That should have been Helena’s last day on this planet, but some part of her did not want to give up yet. And it might have been the belief in the future or it might have been desperation to change what had come to pass; it might have been only the stark thirst for revenge that kept Helena breathing when the rest of her wanted to drift away from existence…

…But perhaps it is here, with the moon making a lazy ascent across the sky and its white light piercing the darkness of this room to reveal Myka’s bare skin, all the dips and hollows that were once lost – but now found – as Helena’s shaking hands find peace in these touches…

Perhaps, then, it took this long for Helena to realize that this moment is what she kept fighting and struggling for.

Oh yes, love can be so beautiful… so very, very beautiful… and when Myka’s lips curve upwards, a warm sight that welcomes Helena back to the land of the living…

…Oh love, sweet and deadly love, feels like finally coming home.

/ /

 

**-end-**

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: The title is a Kate Bush song. An epic Kate Bush song, too. In my head-canon world, Helena totally digs some Kate Bush... and Cocteau Twins... but that's another story.


End file.
